Falling, Fallen
by Hisashi Loves Yelen
Summary: What happens when a team-mate becomes more than that? RuMit, shounen-ai. PG-13 for mild language. [One-shot]


Disclaimer: Mitsui is mine. Rukawa... isn't. Bwahahaha.   
Rating: PG-13 for a few swear words.   
Genre: Angst/Drama/Romance/Shounen-ai   
Pairing: RuMit. Yay! 

* * *

Falling, Fallen

I don't know when these feelings started. I don't even know _how_ they came about. 

These feelings unnerve me. They tilt my world three hundred and sixty degrees, dispute everything that I've known for all my life, as if it were all nothing but a cruel, twisted joke. 

Oh. There he is again... taking his position behind the three-point line. 

He is _beautiful_. The way he elevates himself into the air, the way he so casually releases the ball, as if it costs him absolutely nothing... and that triumphant smile on his face whenever he hits nothing but net... 

There's just something about him... 

Mitsui Hisashi... 

He's perfection. 

And I think I'm in love with him. 

** 

"Kaede-kun, how do you think I look in this top?" 

I don't fucking care. 

"Great." 

"Really? You think so?" 

Your voice is noise to my ears. 

"Yeah." 

"Aww, you're so sweet! But it's so expensive..." 

Then don't fucking buy it. 

"I'll get it." 

Head over to the cash register. Dump my date's insipid pink tank top on the counter. Whip out credit card. 

The machine chokes and sputters. I sign my name. Cashier hands me the bag. I snatch it from him. 

Wordlessly, I shove the bag into my date's hand. Her fingers brush against mine and she starts to entwine our fingers together. 

I yank my hand away. 

They're playing some rubbish dance track and it's seriously making my head throb. It doesn't help either that this particular boutique is jam-packed with people, mostly annoying girls my age, whining about how fat they are when they look like decomposing skeletons. 

I walk briskly out of the boutique, not giving my date a chance to catch up. But she does anyway. 

And this time, she grips my hand before I have a chance to react. 

Her fingernails are digging painfully into my palm but she doesn't even notice. She's yakking away beside me about some stupid redundant cheerleading stunt that her airheaded team has thought up, thinking that I'm listening but I'm sorry, I can really care less. 

Just shut the fuck up. 

I don't know where this stupid girl is dragging me. I don't know why I'm letting her drag me all over this claustrophobic shopping centre. 

She said she loves me. Over and over. 

But I'm nothing to her. I'm just a trophy boyfriend. 

"Eeeek! Kaede-kun! Look who's walking towards us!" 

I look. It's her friends. A bunch of like-minded... _things._

And so I'm trapped. 

I watch and scowl as they start gushing about how great the other party looks, how awesome their purchases are, how absolutely _gorgeous_ so-and-so looks in such-and-such top, until I can't take it anymore. 

I tug on my date's shirt. 

"Oi. Let's go." 

She appears not to have heard my words, for she turns to me and nudges me forward, so that I'm standing in the middle of her and her irritating friends. 

"Oh, by the way guys," she chirps annoyingly. "This is Kaede-kun, my boyfriend. But" -- here she wags a finger, with a teasing smile on her face -- "he's Rukawa-kun to you guys." 

What. Fucking. Ever. I don't recall ever having a girlfriend. 

Not bothered to dispute what she just said and ignoring her friends' overly-enthusiastic smiles, I turn and walk away from them. 

And just like that, I find myself looking straight into the face of the one person who has managed to turn my world upside down without even meaning to. 

Hisashi. He's here. 

And he has his arm around some girl's waist. 

He sees me looking at him. He lifts his hand, wiggles his fingers, hello. 

I simply stare back, not saying a word, poker face intact. 

Typical Rukawa. But that's just on the surface. 

Where Hisashi cannot see, I'm breaking apart. 

** 

He is laughter and joy, confidence and pride. He shoots perfect three-pointers, hands graceful like agile fingers dancing across an ebony-white keyboard, the sound of ball against nothing but net a beautiful symphony, saccharine sweet like the wispy lingering fragments of a wonderful dream. He is on fire, burning with the desire to win, and nothing stands in his way, not mediocre defenders, not even a fainting sensation. And he succeeds, so beautifully, time and time again, fingers curling into a victorious fist, even before the ball enters the rim. 

_I'm falling._

He is broken and healing, abused and recovering. Crystal tears of regret and pain eroded two years of sin, five simple words - "I want to play basketball" - redeemed him. But shadows of the past haunts him still, exposing his vulnerability when it catches him off-guard, and the regrets come rushing back, crashing like a tidal wave against soft, porous sand. 

But he is a fighter, struggling to stay afloat despite drowning, and he is a survivor, no more a victim of his own mistakes. 

_I've fallen._

_**_

Rukawa Kaede is not gay. Rukawa Kaede cannot be gay. He has thousands of girls falling at his feet, and all he needs to do is to choose one, choose two, choose ten, if it's love that he's looking for. 

It would be so easy. Too easy. And I know it isn't right. 

My date, girlfriend, whatever, kisses me on the lips, and she smiles into my eyes. She's pretty, perhaps even beautiful, the most popular girl at school. 

But I feel nothing. Not even the slightest adrenaline rush, let alone that thing called love. 

"I love you, Kaede," she murmurs into my ear. 

_But I don't love you. Not even a little._

"Me too." 

** 

I sit huddled in a corner of the gym. I pull my legs up to my chest and rest my chin on my arms, which are wrapped around my kneecaps. The gym is dark, deserted, and I'm all alone, with nothing but my thoughts for company. 

_How can I... I don't... why... but... it can't be... this isn't me... is it?... why me?... why me?... why me?_

Yes. Why me? Life is unfair. There are reasons why things happen a certain way, why road maps are designed the way they do, but I can't figure out the solution this time. I wish this was Mathematics. I wish I had a formula, an equation, a definition. 

But all I have is this: _gay (adj.): Of, relating to, or having a sexual orientation to persons of the same sex._

A dictionary definition. So cold, unfeeling, apathetic. It's more than that, so much more, so many things that I can't put into words. 

I need to clear my thoughts. I stand up, pick up my trusty basketball, and slowly dribble it. The sound of synthetic leather hitting against polished wood calms me, somehow. 

_Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player, that struts and frets his hour upon the stage, and then is heard no more._

Basketball is therapy. I attempt a lay-up. _Swish_. An easy one, no sweat. 

_It is a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing._

A jumper in the paint. Perfect shot. 

_Life sucks, period._

A full-powered slam dunk. The ring rattles loudly as I hang on to it on one arm. 

I let go of the rim of the basket. I let out a sigh. 

** 

"Rukawa! Wake up!" 

Hmm. I think someone just said something to me. Something about... making up something? 

Jeez. Can't even open my eyes. Why bother trying then? 

This dream is wonderful. I wonder who this guy is. He has the most gentle touch. He's looking so sad, so much that I just want to reach out and take him into my arms, tell him that everything would be okay. 

But he smiles, tells me that it's all right, and I shouldn't worry about him. 

And then he kisses me, so lightly, gentle butterfly footsteps. 

Is it Hisashi? 

I take a closer look. 

No, it's not Hisashi. It's me. Rukawa Kaede. 

** 

I must be dreaming. 

Last I remembered, the rooftop belonged to me and only me. It was deserted as usual when I came up, and it was still occupied by just me when I stretched my body out on the floor and went to sleep. 

But there's somebody else here now. As if in a hazy fantasy or a dream, I opened my eyes to see Hisashi's grinning face looking back at me. 

I sit up. An instant bad move, because a searing bolt of pain shoots through my head. I hold a hand up to where it hurts and stare blankly at Hisashi. 

I want to say so much. I want to tell him everything, to tell him the truth... But I can't. There's simply no words that can do justice to the incredible surge of emotions that I'm feeling, as it begins to dawn on me that Hisashi is sitting very, very close to me... and that it's just the two of us up here at Shohoku High's rooftop. 

"Hey Rukawa," Hisashi says. The impish grin on his face is still present. 

I nod. I'm not thinking straight. "Sempai." 

"Saw you at the mall the other day," he continues, blissfully unaware of the effect his presence has on me. "You left before I could talk to you." He jabs me in the rib and wiggles his eyebrows playfully. "That your girlfriend? She's a babe!" 

Girlfriend? Oh shit. 

"Um," I begin, only to find something lodged in my voicebox. I clear my throat. "No. Not anymore." 

"What happened?" 

I shrug. "Dumped her." 

Hisashi lets out a low whistle. "Whoa. What a heartbreaker. Well, at least you date. I was beginning to suspect that you were gay." 

I freeze momentarily. If it weren't such a flippant remark, I would've confirmed his suspicion. But it's obvious that he meant it only in jest, and nothing else. 

I don't know what to say, so I don't reply. Hisashi doesn't seem to make too much out of it; he's probably used to my silence anyway. 

Hisashi continues to talk, but I'm only half-listening. My eyes roam his face, hungrily drinking in his every feature, the animated way his eyes light up when he speaks, the ever-present hint of a smile on his face. And that rugged scar that runs down the left of his chin... I get an urge to reach out and trace a finger along it. To touch him. Skin on skin, my hand on his face, his warmth radiating right into my heart. To embrace him, my arms around him, holding him close to me, protecting him from the dangers of the world, because he means so much to me. 

Because he's worth everything that I could ever have, everything that I could ever know, everything that I could ever love. 

"... Rukawa? You listening?" 

_I love you_. 

Without thinking, as if in a trance, I lean in close to Hisashi and I kiss him, a fleeting kiss, but it seems to span oeons and oeons, stretched into boundless infinity. His lips are soft, like the smooth skin of an infant's, and I seem to have entered a dream world of sorts where I'm floating above cloud nine and where perfection is HisashiandKaede, KaedeandHisashi, so hallucinatory and intoxicating in its power to blind me to the truth of the real world that I almost believe it. 

But as I break the kiss and watch, haltingly, his face for a reaction, any reaction, I realise that I have made a big mistake. 

"What... what was that for?" 

His voice. It's wary, unsure, and even slightly afraid. I force myself to look at him, but I can't take the look in his eyes. He isn't smiling anymore. 

I cast my gaze downwards. 

"Aishiteru, Mitsui-sempai," I say softly. 

He doesn't answer. Doesn't even move an inch. The silence that now hangs between us speaks louder than anything either of us could ever say. It's smothering, it's suffocating, like a blanket pulled too tightly over my head on the hottest day on earth. And at the same time, I feel a weird coldness in my bones that I've never experienced before, not even during the coldest winters I've lived through. 

And I know that things between us can never be the same again. 

I shut my eyes. Beside me I feel Hisashi getting up. 

_Don't go. Please. Don't go._

He still doesn't say a word. I hear his footsteps, a high-pitched squeakiness, and it's getting softer and softer. 

I open my eyes. 

This time, I see his retreating figure. A mere shadow. 

Walking away from me. 

-end- 

* * *

  
A/N: Don't know if this counts as a RuMit since Rukawa and Mitsui didn't exactly get together but what the hell. It's just one tiny detail that nobody cares about. Right? Riiiight. 

The two lines from "Macbeth" obviously don't belong to me. 

Want a sequel? I could write one. 

Then again, I most probably will. It's gonna be... interesting. 

MITSUI IS MINE!!!! 

-Yelen   


  
  


  
  
  


  
  


  



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